


what seems to be (is always better than nothing)

by LightningRidgeBlackOpal



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Bisexual Shane Madej, Blind Date, Bottom!Shane, College AU, Gay Ryan Bergara, M/M, Roommates, These boys are both VERS af, Unprotected sex oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-20 12:56:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18126464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningRidgeBlackOpal/pseuds/LightningRidgeBlackOpal
Summary: Ryan rolls his eyes. A month. A month already. He can't stand the edge in Ned's eyes, the barely concealed concern. So what if he's been moping? It's allowed. He was cheated on and dumped and he's entitled to sulk. “I just don't think hiding in your room and listening to Morrissey and Air Supply is going to make you feel any better dude,” Ned says and he gets a chuckle in return.“Fuck you dude,” Ryan says as he rolls off his bed and grabs a towel, “I haven't been listening to Morrissey.”





	what seems to be (is always better than nothing)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Collegefession: "One of my friends set me up on a blind date with one of his friends. Turns out it was my roommate. We're both gay and didn't know it."
> 
> OOPS everything is Shyan now.

what seems to be (is always better than nothing)

He's lying on his bed when there's a knock on the door. “Go away,” he calls out. It opens anyway.

“Get the hell up, dude,” Ned says. Ryan doesn't move or respond. “Come on, man. You've been sulking for a month. Get up, take a shower, get dressed, come out with us. This is boring and sad. You are boring and sad.”

Ryan rolls his eyes. A month. A month already. He can't stand the edge in Ned's eyes, the barely concealed concern. So what if he's been moping? It's allowed. He was cheated on and dumped and he's entitled to sulk. “I just don't think hiding in your room and listening to Morrissey and Air Supply is going to make you feel any better dude,” Ned says and he gets a chuckle in return.

“Fuck you dude,” Ryan says as he rolls off his bed and grabs a towel, “I haven't been listening to Morrissey.”

When he comes back into the room Ned is sitting by the bed and typing furiously on his phone. “Hurry up dude,” he says without looking up, “the boys are already at the bar.”

Ryan is not looking forward to going out, exactly, but as him and Ned step out the door of the dorm building he does feel a lightness that's been absent for a while. Not a spring in his step by any means, but a simple lack of weight on his shoulders, a buoyancy. He's 21, he has three finals in a couple weeks, and his boyfriend cheated on him. He still has at least two years in school. As much as he's looking forward to the end result, he's feeling worn down by the process. One degree under his belt, two more within his grasp.

The club is loud, and crowded, but something about the dim lights and the neon signs and the loud music must be good for him. It’s making him feel a little less down, a little less tied up in the past, like it’s loosening everything and bringing him back into himself. Ned and Eugene and Zach and Keith are all solid lines of heat around him as they dance and laugh. He can almost forget that the hands brushing his arms and the weight against his side and the laughter in his ears is just from his friends. He can almost forget why he’d been dragged out tonight in the first place.

Eventually he finds himself at a table, tired out from dancing and not drunk enough yet to dance more, staring down into the dark pool of jack and coke in his glass. A body falls heavily into the booth next to him, leaning on him and laughing in between gasps. Ned’s face is flushed and there’s a hickey on his neck. “What’s up dude?” he asks from Ryan’s shoulder. His breath is hot on his neck. “You seem down again.”

“Just catching my breath man,” Ryan says but Ned must recognize something in his tone because he sits up and moves to sit across the table so he can meet his eyes. “You’ve been catching your breath for the past month, dude.”

Ryan rolls his eyes, that isn’t what he meant, but he recognizes where Ned’s coming from. That’s just them, as friends, the whole group of them. Any time one of them falls the others are there to pull him back up. But Ryan just hasn’t been ready yet. Like he can’t stop himself from sliding back into malaise every time he’s alone.

“Listen dude. I’ve got this friend, right? He’s a cool fucking dude. Just your type. Let me set you up on a date. All you gotta do is show up and be cute and charming like normal, and if it doesn’t work then that’s cool, but at least show up,” Ned says all in a rush, like he’s been thinking about suggesting this for a while. Knowing Ned, he has been. Ryan crosses his arms, defensive, but doesn’t argue. “Seriously dude. You can just jerk off your depression forever, or you can meet some cool dude to jerk you off instead. Your choice. I’m tired of…” Ned trails off. The song switches to something that Ryan knows Ned will try to drag him out onto the floor for, but he just sits there thinking. “I’m tired of seeing you look sad. I miss your smile.”

Something about the liquor makes it impossible to lie, impossible to ignore the loving way Ned’s looking at him, like his happiness is all that matters. Ryan says, “sure dude. I’ll go on a date with your friend.” He glances over toward the floor, toward Zach and Keith where they’re dancing like fools. Toward Eugene where some guy has his hands all over him. “Do I know him?” he asks.

Ned’s eyes are on Eugene too. It takes a while before he answers, half-hearted, distracted, “nah dude. I don’t think so. I met him in Poli Sci last year.” Ned gets up, takes a few steps toward Eugene, and then stops and turns back to Ryan. “Come dance with me,” he says, and Ryan can recognize the signs of a Ned versus Eugene argument brewing, and those are always wildly entertaining, so he lets Ned drag him by the arm out to the floor, and he dances.

*

He's working furiously on a paper for his Eastern European folklore class when his roommate shows up for the first time in days. Without looking away he says, “thought you moved into the library,” and he hears a tired laugh in response. He's a cool guy, Shane. A couple years older, but he's working on a degree on history so Ryan thinks he must be a bit boring.

“I did. Finally finished my research project though, so I thought I'd make sure you weren't drowning before I take off for the night,” he says from over by his bed. Ryan can hear him shuffling his clothes around, looking for something to wear. He can hear him changing. He’s still typing furiously though, his deadline approaching faster and faster every minute.

“Not drowning, but definitely suffering. I've got… six more pages to write before midnight.” Ryan says. Shane laughs, closer suddenly, and Ryan turns in time to see him wink. “Good luck dude. Have fun writing about…” he leans in closer to the screen, “witches who eat kids sometimes. Wait. Does that say chicken legs?”

He laughs out loud at that, a big and sudden noise, and Ryan can't help but join him. “I don't even want to know how that makes sense,” Shane says on his way out the door.

*

Ryan gets a B on his paper. It's not bad, but it leaves a sting behind. He shakes the feeling off in the shower. Ned called him and said his date was tonight, and at first Ryan didn't know what he meant until he remembered their talk at the club. He'd considered backing out, but since that night he's been much less mopey and he couldn't think of a good enough excuse so he decided to just go through with it. “It's just one date,” he tells himself as he gets dressed. Dark jeans, a tank top because this spring has been unusually warm. “Just one date.”

The restaurant is nice, not quite swanky but definitely tasteful. He's seated already, buried in the drink menu, when he hears someone walk up and take the seat across from him. “You must be Ned's friend,” a familiar voice says and he drops the menu to the table in surprise. “My name's-” the guy gets out before he sees Ryan and then his face splits into a disbelieving grin. They both start laughing, and Ryan shakes his head. Shane is sitting across from him, dressed up in a nice button up, and the smile on his face is charming.

“Unbelievable,” Ryan says and Shane nods. “Small world, how do you know Ned?” Shane asks.

Ryan’s still in a bit of shock, so it takes him a moment to answer. He waits until the waiter has come and taken their drink orders before he says, “I met him right before I moved here. I guess our moms knew each other so they insisted we should be friends. Guess they were right.”

“So, I don’t mean to put you on the spot or whatever, but I didn’t know you were gay,” Ryan says. He doesn’t mean it to come across as blunt as it does, but Shane barks out a laugh anyway. A laugh he’s heard many times.

“Well, probably because I’m not. I’m bi,” Shane answers and Ryan nods. “But yeah, I don’t know. We’ve been roommates for a while but we never really hung out, right? So it didn’t seem like a huge deal.”

“I never really figured I had to say something, to be honest,” Ryan says and Shane tilts his head. “I mean, my boyfriend was over all the time and I’m, I don’t know. I figure I’m just one of those gays, you know? It’s obvious or whatever.” Shane shrugs.

“I try not to assume,” he says simply. Ryan… well, honestly he’s having a nice time. He’d been nervous about the whole blind date thing, and then when he saw it was Shane he figured it was a cosmic sign that he was doomed. Somehow, though, it’s only served to make everything less awkward. Like if it doesn’t work out then they’re just roommates getting to know each other a bit late in the game, no harm no foul. Like he’s less on the spot because he already knows this guy, and he’s an alright guy. Shane’s funny in an effortless way, just the way he speaks (which is distinctly midwestern) and how dry and witty he is. Ryan finds himself laughing through dinner, and laughing through drinks after, and laughing at the way Shane laughs when Ryan tells him about his folklore paper. Laughing at the way Shane laughs at Ryan, like he’s being charming when he’s just ranting about his classes.

They keep chatting well into the night, and both ignore when their phones go off at the same time (Ned, obviously). And Shane acts like he's being chivalrous when he offers to walk Ryan to his room. Once inside, though, the air changes. Ryan's cheeks are flushed from the wine. Shane's eyes are crinkled up in laughter. Ryan feels uncharacteristically brave. He takes two confident steps forward and then leans up to press his lips against the corner of Shane’s smile. “I had a great time,” he says. Shane's only answer is to wrap him up and pull him close and kiss him soundly.

The energy changes. Ryan drags Shane by the collar of his stupid button up shirt toward his bed and pulls him down on top of him. He struggles with the buttons long enough that Shane literally growls and pulls the half-buttoned shirt up over his head, diving in and kissing Ryan harder. Ryan is disappointed he doesn’t get more of a chance to check him out, to see him shirtless and actually be able to appreciate it, but when Shane presses himself flush against him and he can feel that they’re both obviously hard he forgets to be disappointed.

Shane’s mouth drifts to his neck, his shoulder. Ryan sits up enough to tug his tank top off and Shane grins against his chest. “How and why did we neglect to do this all the time over the last year?” he asks and Ryan doesn’t answer. Doesn’t know. Can’t even remember that he was in a relationship up until last month. The only thing he can focus on is Shane’s lips. He tugs him up by the jaw to kiss him again but Shane pulls back, meets his eye, and winks as he slides down to unbutton Ryan’s jeans and tug them off. “You are way too dressed,” Shane says, mouthing at the line of his hard cock in his boxers. Ryan tries to say, “so are you,” but it comes out as strangled moan when Shane’s tongue teases at the head of his dick.

He doesn’t have to, though, because without moving his mouth away from Ryan Shane strips his pants off and toys with the tent in his underwear. He’s clearly big, the line of his dick tugging at his underwear enough that it pulls away from his waist and Ryan can see his pubic hair and the thick root of it when Shane pulls back to just look over Ryan’s body. Like he’s looking at a painting in a museum or some romantic bullshit like that. Ryan is struggling to think, especially when Shane reaches for the band of his underwear and he lifts his hips up on impulse to let him slide them off. “Nice,” Shane says, looking at his dick, and Ryan can’t help but laugh.

“Nice, really?” he asks and Shane laughs too. Then they stop laughing because Shane slides his lips down over Ryan’s dick and his voice cuts off. All he can do is suck in a harsh gasp. His hands are gripping uselessly at Shane’s shoulders and his back and his head, moving around of their own accord.

Shane pulls off for a moment, his face is flushed, his breath is coming heavy. “You wanna take things slow, or you wanna fuck me?” he asks and Ryan’s eyes slam shut against the image of Shane underneath him. “Jesus, Shane,” he says. It isn’t an answer. It might be. Shane slides his underwear off. “Nice,” Ryan teases, even though his eyes are locked on how big Shane’s dick is. Thick and full, long, a slight upward curve to it. He wants to get his mouth on it, but he can’t fight the thought of fucking Shane.

“Nice, really?” Shane teases back. But then he straddles Ryan’s hips and sits down on Ryan’s cock in one motion and Ryan stops keeping track of what’s going on after that and just enjoys the ride.

“This is definitely not how I thought tonight would go,” he manages to say around the groans. Shane is riding him slowly, almost teasing him with the languid pace. Eventually, Ryan can’t take it and rolls them over, slides back into Shane and starts doing his damndest to bury him in the mattress.

“Fuck yeah, give it to me Ry. God you are something else.” The words tumble out like he's lost control, in between moans and gasps. Ryan wraps his fist around Shane's dick and starts working in in time with his thrusts and Shane throws his head back like he's overwhelmed. He comes quickly after that, and Ryan pulls out to add to the mess on his stomach and chest. He leans down, kissing Shane deep and slow, until Shane shoos him off and insists they go shower. Ryan wants to argue until he imagines shower sex, and then he pulls on some sweats and follows, letting Shane lead him by the hand.

*

“Wait,” Ned says. “Your roommate, the one who, and I quote, ‘is obviously part sasquatch and likes history of all things,’ is Shane? Shane Madej?” Ryan nods. “Damn. I'm a better matchmaker than I thought.”

“Shut up, babe,” Eugene says.

**Author's Note:**

> I will have no top/bottom arguments about these two boys because it doesn't matter which of them tops and which bottoms. Every version of this couple that I write is verse. If you prefer one arrangement over the other that's cool, but I don't want arguments about it.
> 
> Title from What A Fool Believes by The Doobie Brothers (but more specifically from the cover by EURINGER)


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